


Not on the side of the angels

by Najil_sherlocked



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anxiety, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Case, Dark Sherlock, First Kiss, First Time, Greg Lestrade & Sherlock Holmes Friendship, Greg is a good friend, John is a Good Friend, John is sweetheart, Johnlock - Freeform, Killer Sherlock, Love Confessions, M/M, Murder, Murder by accident, Murderer, Murderer Sherlock, POV Greg, Quilt, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Has Secrets, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use, Sherlock Holmes is Bad at Feelings, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Smut, Top John Watson, Understanding John, Virgin Sherlock, merelock, mermaid sherlock, secrets lot's of secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-12-31 23:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12143190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Najil_sherlocked/pseuds/Najil_sherlocked
Summary: We are all cable of terrible things. In all my years of being a private detective, I never thought I would be on the other side of it.Sherlock has secret's, secret's he can't tell to anyone. But sooner or later those sercrets will become to much. How is he going to handle it?





	1. Almost time

Sherlock is sitting on the edge of hes freshly made bed, probably by Ms Hudson who doesn't respect his personal space as much as he would like. But then again since when has he ever been out of anyone's personal spage ever.  
Sherlock takes a deep sigh and his eyes flutter of to the calander neatly placed on the wall. The day he dreated is almost there. Every year the same problem, he is getting really sick of it. He let his eyes roll back in their sockets and lets out a grunt as he let himself fall backwards on his bed, his legs curling up to his chest like he is protecting himself for the outside world. He wants to close his eyes, just for a minute so he can forget all about it, Maybe even sleep through it. He is about to let his mind wonder off to somewhere else when he hears his phone beeping on the kitchen counter. Sherlock always had a great pair of ears. He let's out a dramatic sigh and let's his arm fall back on the bed before retrieving himself and gets up. He takes a few long strides towards the kitchen and places the phone in his pocket. Not yet taking the effort to look at the new messages that had just reached his device and he strides back into his bedroom. Once again glancing at the calender infront of him and let's out a huf. Walking over to the bed, he sat down on the edge, the springs creaking in protest beneath him. He traced his fingers over the worn cotton, watching the swirls and ridges of shifting air form and fall across the surface. With a deep overdramatic sigh, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

 

1 new message

 

He groaned, but slid the touchscreen unlocked anyway and saw it was from John. He could already see the first word being 'hi' and rolls his eyes. Normally he automatically deletes every text that begins with a hi. But then again, it is John and curiousity about what the text could be took the better of him and clicked on the message to open the chat.

 

Hi, I know you're probably busy with one of your experimentes ( wich if you are do not make a bloody mess of the kitchen, I want it clean when I come home) -

 

Sherlock took a look around him. Was he in the middle of an experiment? Well most certainly, he was checking how long it would take before he would go insane stating by the fact that in three days- no! stop thinking about it.

 

\- But do you need anything from tesco's? Already bringing milk

Sherlock let's out a sigh as his fingers start hovering over his screen.

No milk is fine -SH

Sherlock let's his mobile fall besides him on the bed and is about to enter his mind palace when his phone goes of again. He picks up the phone with a roll of the eyes and let's them dance over the screen.

You know you still do that?

Confused Sherlock looks at the words that just appeared infront of him on the screen.

Do what? -SH

An answer came almost immidiatly.

Sign of with SH you idiot

Assuming that last word would be sarcastic Sherlock focused on the other words.

So you know it is me, honestly John don't be daft -SH

Figuring that would ensure him some privacy for a while, he turned his attention back towards his thoughts but when he was about to do that another annoying ping echoed through his ears. He let's out a groan. He could just ignore it but chances are that John would then throw the freshly new milk over Sherlock's head when he came home for doing so. Sherlock let out a small grin, like he could even reach his head.

Okay then, then I will do just the same! -JW ;) 

John I envy you so much, your brain, placet, forward, barely used thinking you could send emtions to me, you have reached a new low -SH

And I love you to, Peaches! -J H W

Sherlock froze at those words. D-did he really just say that? He let's the device fall out of his hands and as it reaches the worn cotton sheets his hart stops all the same. Sure John did not mean it like that... But still Sherlock couldn't help but let his cheeks turn crimson everytime John did something like that. Why was that? Ofcourse sentiment, but, but... he never had these problems before with anyone so why would John be so different? Ofcourse, John Watson wasn't like anyone else he ever met. His stormy blue eyes where even a mystery on it's own but Sherlock couldn't afford to think about this even a second longer since the known footsteps of an army doctor were already making their way up the 15 steps leading to 221b. He quickly retrieves himself and gives a quick glance in the mirror making sure he wasn't showing any signs of emotions before bursting out of his bedroom and making sure he falls with a dramatic sing on the sofa just in time for John to see. 

 

"Ofcourse I will help you with those heavy backs you have there John'' John says with an overly dramatic voice before making his way to the kitchen. "Sherlock can you help me unpack these?''

 

Sherlock who was facing the back of the sofa looked over his shoulder scanning John before stating the obvious ''Why? You are not staying'' He answered scathingly, facing back to the sofa and preparing himself for the questions.

"Wha? What do you mean, Sherlock?'' He asks with a confused frown.

 

Sherlock takes out a deep sigh and stand up from the sofa, striding towards John and placing his hand ontop of John's head '' Freshly cut'' Sherlock states as he touches to soft little hairs on John scalp, god they are soft before moving on, pointing to the clean shaved skin above his lip '' Freshly shaved, probably before you went shopping'' waving his hands like a exiting girl givin a puppy for her birthday on the last word '' and new shirt'' He makes an circely movement across John's chest, not touching him. ''Clearly you have a date tonight, so why bring all the new food? Probably because you know other wise I wouldn't eat but nontheless you are the one who bought it and I-'' He gestures his hand towards himself ''- Did not aks for the food so I can basicly just leave them in the back since none of us will use it anyway'' Sherlock turns around and storms back to his safe place on the sofa, about to retread back to himself as John begins to speak.

"As wonderfull as these deductions were, you still have to eat eventough I am going out'' He points to Sherlock with a stern face. '' And now comes my favorite part'' Sherlock looks at him with confusion '' That means you get to help me pack all this out!'' John says with all the joy in the world. Sherlock let's out a deep groan and let's his shoulders fall in defeat 

"FINE'' Sherlock says his hands half way in the air before making his way to the kitchen counter and starts unpacking everything. As he glances to his side he can see the smile on John's face wich makes the inside of Sherlock's stomach fluster. Sherlock quickly looks the other way and mentally giving himself a punch in the bollocks. What the hell am I thinking? I don't have time for any of this not with what is coming. And besides John has a new date, again. "Where did you even meet this one?'' Sherlock can't help but ask.

"Kensington'' John replies as he puts away the milk

"That is a terrible neighborhood. Crime rate's up 15 percent in the past three years''  
Sherlock says blandly

"Are you saying my date is a criminal, sherlock? John stops with what he is doing and leans against the kitchen counter staring at Sherlock with his arms forming a perfect x-form.

 

"I am not saying anything, I know'' Sherlock says without looking at John.

 

"You are just making this up aren't you?''

 

"Maybe'' They now look eachoter in the eye and they both fall into a fit of giggles.

 

"Didn't see you for the jealous type mister Holmes'' John says as he walks over to the bathroom, going to make himself ready for his date, leaving Sherlock flustered at his words. Sherlock waved a dismissive hand in his direction but John had already left the warm comforts of the living room and made his way into the bathroom. Was John going with her to a restaurant? Would he be a gentleman and hold the door for her open and pay the check and all? Is he going to a place he knows or will he go bold and try some place new? Sherlock's curiosity temporarily overtaking his completely righteous flustered mind, he follows him inside the bathroom. As he enters the bathroom he can see John. Well not John, all of him, his main focus goes to his bare chest just their on a display. He can not help but let his cheeks go red again and his mouth slightly opening with a gasp. This is the first time he had seen John without his shirt on, what was he even thinking?! Ofcourse he would be changing why else going into the bathroom, idiot! He let's his eyes wander around those brode shoulders and muscular arms and can't help but swallow thickly before looking John in the eyes. John had apparently been speaking, because he was now looking at him expectantly.  
He tilted his head in an unspoken inquiry, and John shook his head with a little smile.

''I was saying, what are you doing here Sherlock?'' His eyebrows lifted slightly, and Sherlock's furrowed. 

"I-I'' He started to stutter '' I do not remember'' He finally manages but with emberrasmend. It seemed to convince him well enough, though, because he smiled at him, nodding. He hesitated, his arms twitching slightly, and sherlock could tell he was rather uncomfortable. Probably because his chest was there for Sherlock's eyes to see. He quickly glances away and makes his way into the living room before he can say more stupid things.

He made his way to his bedroom and let himself fall on his soft bed after closing the door with a thud behind him. For a moment he looked up at the wall and looked once again at the date, burning in his eyes. Three more days, he has to come up with a plan.


	2. 2 days to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ''Oh my dear watson, somethimes it is easier to know it, than explain how I know it'' Sherlock states still not opening his eyes.
> 
> "Okay you git''John says, making his way over to the fridge going to make himself something to eat '' You were right do'' John says as he almost yells over his shoulder to the detective on the couch.
> 
> "Ofcourse I was right! I am always right'' Sherlock say opening his eyes and screaming into John direction.

Sherlock awoke the next morning with a distressed groan, rolling away from the window and tugging the blankets up over his eyes. He had been up far too late waiting for John to come home from his date, wanting to deduce every detail before he would retriet to his bedroom. But ofcourse he hadn't made it home last night and Sherlock felt a bile forming in his throath at the thought of John with someone else. Since when did he became this jealous? With a reluctant sigh, he removed the blankets, squinting down at the alarm clock sitting on the desk at the foot of his bed. it was already 10 wich means John could be getting home any time now. He sprang out of bed, nearly falling all over himself as his legs tangled in the sheets. Embarrassed, he looked up hoping Mycroft hadn't again placed one of his secret camera's around his flat.  
Sherlock made his way over to the sofa and let himself fall with a dramatic thud. Not many time later John bargens in the apartment glancing around before his eyes meet Sherlock, who, quickly had picked up a book while John clame up the familiar stairs of 221b, pretending to read.

 

"Morning'' 

 

Sherlock hums in aknowledgement but doesn't look up.

 

''Have you even left that couch at all today?'' John looked at Sherlock with a mocking glance.

 

Sherlock’s fingers tightened slightly on the edges of his book, but his face remained impassable. “I’ve had ample opportunities to leave this sofa but I’ve just never found the idea of it appealing enough'' he muttered, perfectly aloof.

 

John nodded, trying to hide his smirk 

 

“What?” Sherlock snapped

 

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug, but he couldn’t push the smile from his lips. “It’s just, you're alot of fun at parties aren't ya?'' He lifted his head, smirking

 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and gave John a dangerous glance. Sherlock sighed, painfully put-upon and overdramatic, and snapped his book shut. He let it fall to the table from his hand.  
Taking in more of John's body. He looked much the same as he had last night, in fact, his shirtsleeves still rumpled and rolled to his elbows, and Sherlock wondered briefly if he had even changed. He’d added the grey, cotton sweater vest. Ahh.. so it was the couch then last night, good. '' I see it was the couch'' Sherlock says blandly before pulling his hands up in prayer form under his chin and closing his eyes.

''H-how?'' John looks at him with his hands almost in the air.

 

''Oh my dear watson, somethimes it is easier to know it, than explain how I know it'' Sherlock states still not opening his eyes.

 

"Okay you git''John says, making his way over to the fridge going to make himself something to eat '' You were right do'' John says as he almost yells over his shoulder to the detective on the couch.

 

"Ofcourse I was right! I am always right'' Sherlock say opening his eyes and screaming into John direction.

 

John let's out a little laugh as he focus his attention to his sandwich in the making. After that is done he makes his way again into the living room with a bored Sherlock still lying on the sofa. ''And how was the rest of your date John? Because I’m polite and make follow-up inquiries about your life,” John said in the poshest accent he could manage, his head bobbing side-to-side.

 

Sherlock looks up '' Is that supossed to be-''

 

“How thoughtful of you, Sherlock. Thank you for asking,” John interrupted, smiling brightly, and Sherlock scowled at him before going back to sulking on the couch.

 

"It was afwulf going by the stain of pasta sauce on your sweater'' Sherlock states looking over at John who is about to speak up, probably asking how he knew it and Sherlock let's out a sigh '' Like I said, somethimes it is easier to know it, than-''

 

"Explain how you know it, yeah yeah, I know the drill'' John says as he makes his way to the entrance of the room, probably going to change upstairs '' You git!'' John exlaimed halfway up the stairs and Sherlock couldn't restrain a laugh.

 

Once John was out of his way Sherlock looked at the locked screen of his mobile, 2 more days. He was getting nerveous he could tell, how was he going to hide it this year? Sherlock stood up and paced around the room, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as his index fingers tapped against one another in rhythm with his steps. How could he hide his secret? In rainy London for christ sake! Sherlock heard the footsteps of John racing down the stairs and . The muscles in his knees twitched. Taking the precious few seconds he had left to collapse onto sofa. Reaching behind him to pluck a book off his desk, he opened it to a random page near the middle, and hovered it over his face just as the door swung open.

 

John glanced around the room and found the detective still in the same spot as he left him. '' Sherlock have you seen my jumper?''

 

''I think ms Hudson might-'' Sherlock looked up from his book and found John standing there bare chested in the opening of the door. He shifted the book away, snapping it closed before dropping it unceremoniouslyon the ground, making himself sit up right. He was dying, he was sure of it, and what a terribly boring way to go: heart attack in his own flat, how dull. He looked away, his mind going disconcertingly quiet as he stared down at his fingers twisting in his lap. It was nonsensical, completely illogical. He had seen plenty of naked bodies laid out on slabs in the morgue; there was no reason why John should have such an affect on him. It was just like yesterday and he could feel his cheeks go crimson. He let his mind wonder off to something else, he could not affort to think of this, not with his problem comming up. Focus on that first Sherlock, focus! He could deal with…whatever the hell this was later. Box it away, shove it in a back corner of his mind palace and padlock the door.

 

''Sherlock?'' John said, and it was all Sherlock could do not to jump through the ceiling at the proximity of it. John was standing at his shoulder.

 

God dammit breath! 

 

"Yes, uh, I think ms Hudson took it for laundry'' Sherlock says trying to hide his red cheeks by standing up and walking towards his bedroom door.

 

"Okay, Tha-'' Is the last Sherlock heard before slamming his bedroom door shut and letting himself fall dramaticly against it. He sighed heavily, swallowing hard as he watched the calender on the whall infront of him. John can never find out, nobody can. When they find out they will catch him, inprison him, experiment on him like he is a rabbit. He can not let that happen. But then he thinks back to last year, he was in luck then, John visiting his family for a whole week leaving Sherlock in peace with his dark secret. The yard he told he was sick and couldn't attend any cases that week. For all he knows that every drop of water can mean the end of him. He let's out a dramatic huf, this all started when he turned 18 he can still remember the shock on not only his face, but also on that of his parents as he collapsed on the kitchen floor. He and his father had been washing the dishes, they had just started with their first plate when Sherlock felt something was wrong. The muscles in his knees were twitching and he could feel himself losing control over his legs as suddenly he fell to the floor, letting out a groan of pain as he fell flat on his back. His parents, in all their worry were at his side in just a mere second. About to ask him what was wrong when they saw it display infront of their own eyes, never had they seen such a event and if they weren't part of it they would have never believed it. The legs, of their beloved little bee started changing, The fabric of his black jeans, starting to vanish infront of their eyes as Sherlock's legs started to melt togheter. Ms Holmes did let out a scream as she saw Sherlock's beautiful pale legs now full of scales and what seemed to be a fish's tale.  
Sherlock took a deep sigh and closes his eyes. Ever since that day, things changed. They found out soon enough that after a while, he would change back and that water seemed to be the trigger of his transformation. He himself, was at the time facinated by the tale and was dissapointed to find out that after a week the tale would not return. That was until next year, when it started all over again. And every year since. Now that he wasn't a child anymore and was aware of the freak he thought himself to be he no longer enyojed it. And it only got worse since last year. Now he has something he can lose, for ever, John. When John will find out about this he will leave, he will leave Sherlock behind and he will be once again unloved, the freak, the brain without a heart. He can not let that happen, he can't lose the only good thing in his life because god, John was better than cocaine. Better than anything else he ever experienced.  
Sherlock takes a deep sigh, how is he going to hide it this year? He for sure can not go outside on cases, not with all the rain that has been forseen this whole week. But when he won't take any cases from Gavin, Giles... Graham? John will know something is up with him. Should he just take the chance? Goign out on cases, hoping nothing will go wrong, hoping this whole week there won't be a single drop of rain touching his porsalin skin? Not a single slip up from drinking his tea? No clumsy Anderson spilling water all over him? He takes a deep breath. Maybe he should do just that, because after all, what is a better than hiding in plain sight?  
Sherlock crouches up from the door frame and let a sigh of relief was over him as he finally made a plan for himself. Let's just hope that if there is a god, he would be with sherlock this week and he opened the door to once again face the living room. 

 

As he walks into the living room he can see John sitting in his chair sipping his tea. What was that earlier? Why did he feel so hopeless everytime John was around? His lips pursed into a line as he continued to piece together the puzzle of his emotions. Was that the basis of his reaction earlier? A possessiveness stemming from the unfamiliar feeling of friendship? Surely, he wasn’t attracted to John.  
His eyes shot wide, his head lifting from his fingers as his spine straightened. Sherlock understood the mechanics of sexual attraction, of course. He had never experienced it beyond the uncontrollable hormone imbalances of when he was just a teenage boy but never took it farther than taking matters in his own hands. He had yet to feel the need to repeat any of those activities. There was nothing special about John watson, normal haircut, blond hair, stormy blue eyes and yet... Sherlock sighed. But this felt more than just attraction, it felt like more, like... he doesn't know.  
He takes another look at the back of John's chair were the little man was still sipping his tea.

He strides pas John's chair and makes his way over to the mantle as he stares at his skull, probably to think. John tilted his head at his ever-stranger roommate, wondering just how many more oddities would come out of Sherlock before he got used to it. “You need to eat,” he chided. Getting Sherlock's attention he furrowed his brows.

 

"What?'' he askes confused.

 

"You need to eat, I like to bed that you haven't touched a single bit of food last night and I don't see any signs around here of you having a well fed breakfeast'' John states as he pointes into Sherlock's direction giving him a stern face. Sherlock just groans as he makes his way over to the kitchen, leaving John with a smile on his face, it was good to see he had atleast some power of the detective.

 

Sherlock walked over to the kitchen, since when did John have such a power over him? He could feel a tingle go down his spine and let out a little huff, these emotions are going to be the death of him one day. he reached the kitchen and takes some leftovers of a few days ago from the fridge, not taking the effort to put everything neatly on a plate and just eat it out of the container. He always liked thai, he didn't know why, probably something to do with taste. boring, moving on. He stares back at the chair of John wich was now missing his owner. Sherlock furrowed his brows as he took a bite of chicken in his mouth and glanced around the flat, his eyes desperatly wanint to find the blogger. He found him standing by the bookshelves taking out a book and returning to his chair. Sherlock can't help but let his eyes wander over John's musculair calves and would like to know how they feel- God he was getting pathetic! He let the chicken noodle fall on the kitchen counter and makes his way over to the bathroom, letting a splash of water meet his high cheekboned face. He let himself lean over the sink before looking into the mirror. He let's out a huf that soon turns out into laughter. "You're in love you idiot'' He murmmers to himself. He let's hid head fall down and takes a deep breath. Once again opening the tap letting the water flow in his hands before splashing in his face. ''You idiot!'' he silently hisses to himself. he let's out a huf and looks at his feet in defeat. 

 

"I told you not to get involved'' he hears his brother's voice echoeing through his head. 

 

''Shut up'' he says silently, not entirely sure about himself.

 

''Caring is not a advantidge, Sherlock'' He hears him a bit louder now. 

 

"SHUT UP" Sherlock almost screams now. He can feel his anger boiling up inside him before realizing that he just screamed that out loud. He can already hear John's footsteps coming to the bathroom and Sherlock can feel a bile forming in his throath, feeling like he can throw up any minute now.

 

"Sherlock?'' He hears from outside the door.

 

Sherlock closes his eyes, not wanting to responce.

 

"Sherlock are you okay?'' He can hear the worry and pitty in John's voice. Sherlock scoffs, that is exactly what he is, someone you can pitty, a loser, a freak someone who will never deserve the love of John Watson... 

 

"M'Fine'' Sherlock can let out through the tears that are burning in his eyes. Mycroft is right, he let's out a laugh, isn't he always? He let's his head fall in defeat. Caring, sentiment, emotions. Why did he let himself get this far? Why did he allow himself to feel these emotions for John? He let's out another sigh and looks up at the door. Sure John is standing now, on the other side with worry on his face, worry for his flatmate, because that is all that Sherlock is to John, His flatmate. Not lover not boyfriend, he laughs, he wish.  
He let's his hand go through his curly hair and let's out a huff.  
"I am fine John, Just thinking outloud'' Sherlock says as calm and normal as possible.

 

"Okay, Sherlock. I am going into town with mike, maybe getting a pint. Wanna join?'' John asks through the door.

 

Sherlock let's out a little smile, John would normally never aks Sherlock to go with him. He knows Sherlock hates the outside world with it's ordinairy people. But sure, he must found some guilt. Sherlock closes his eyes, he is only asking you out of pity

 

"No, dull'' Sherlock let's out, not showing to John how mentally exhausted and hurt he really is.

 

"Okay, but if something is wrong you call me?'' John tries

 

"Text'' Sherlock states.

 

John let's out a sigh "Fine, text'' and then he can hear John's footsteps retrieve to the stairs before grabbing his jacket and making his way down. Sherlock let's out a groan and opens the bathroom door, directly walking over to John's chair. His fingers lingering over the soft fabric before taking three long strides to the sofa and dramaticly flopping down.  
He stares up to the celling and let's out another huff. Should he tell John? Should he tell him how he feels? Would it change their friendship? He looked at John's chair, He couldn't help but to say it now, he would never hear it anyway.

Sherlock stood up from the sofa, making his way over to John's chair. It wasn't even really him but he was nervous as hell. Sherlock swallowed, and then took a slow step closer, hands constantly twitching in nerves at his side. “I- Well, you-you know you’re my friend. My best friend,” he began he began, dipping his head in a quick jerk of a gesture as his lips twitched in an attempt at a smile that looked more nauseous than anything. “But- But lately-” He paused, biting at his lip as he turned his head away. When he continued speaking, it was with wide gesticulations, his weight anxiously shifting between his legs. “And-And I think- I think you know- At least, I’m pretty sure you know. I mean... I have been pretty obvious, staring at you and all, doing things you say without you even needing to ask twice, making you tea more often, I- I...''  
Sherlock was losing control of his breathing, his lungs rising and falling quicker and quicker, the room blurring at the edges as he tried to focus on John’s chair. With a sigh, John pulled his hands back, running one through his hair as he took a half step backward, eyes looking past the chair. '' John I- I like... you'' Sherlock blurted out, he sleed back even further now, not knowing what to with his hands or even with himself as he looked at the chair again. "I - mean.. DAMMIT!" He angeld away from the chair, his hands tugging at his curls and then he heard it. steps, racing down the stairs. His blood, ran cold. So cold. He could feel a weight on his shoulders and a bile forming in his throath. This couldn't be. Those weren't John's. Were they? Sherlock closed his eyes, swallowing hard, his hands shaking in fists as he bit into his lip, praying this was a dream, praying the sharp pinch of teeth would pull him back to waking in his bed, his eyes damp for a reason he would no longer be able to remember. Sherlock rattled his head, pulling in a ragged gasp of air. '' Please, Please don't have let John hear all that, please, oh god''. He let his head fall in his hands and can now feel he really is in a need to throw up so he makes his way to the bathroom and let himself fall onto the ground with hands in his hair and a dead weight on his heart. He would leave, ofcourse he would leave now for sure... And maybe it is better if he leaves. Alone protects me, love is a dangerous disadvantage, sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side, people leave, they always leave, love doesn’t help, doesn’t heal, doesn’t change anything but the amount it hurts, alone, alone, always alone…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like it so far :)


	3. Greg to the rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ''Sherlock...'' Greg tries but Sherlock slaps away Greg's hand and is about to walk away as Greg grabs him by his fore arm, making Sherlock hiss. Greg's brows furrow and he lifts up Sherlock sleeve to see the pinch of needles. God... '' Sherlock'' He said softly, the detective turning his face away from him. "Tell me- tell me you're not back to'' 
> 
> ''Drugs? Would it matter?'' he said, jolting his arm away as he now twisted his back to him.
> 
> Silence for a moment, the stillness vibrating with tension grating down his strangled throat ''It does matter''
> 
> there was another silence, then the detective spoke again but silently, almost a whisper and if Greg wasn't focussed on it he wouldn't have heard it.

Greg was out of his dept. And like always, there was one conductor of light, one place where the desperate could go and that place was 221b. As he made his way down to 221b he bumbed shoulders with someone. "Oi! Sorry mate- wait John?'' Greg could see the person now fully clear, it was John Watson. "Out for work mate?'' Greg asked with a fond smile on his face, not showing his desperateness to the doctor.  
"Oh, no just going out for a pint with mike, care to join me?'' the doctor responces with a weird smile one his face, something is of, maybe he got in a fight with Sherlock? God help us then, maybe this case will cheer him up a bit then... a tripple murder always made the detective tickle.   
''No, thanks. I was actually on my way to Sherlock'' He made a gesture to the file under his arm and John responded with a nod before making his way down town to the pub. Greg stared for a second to the way John just left and takes out a sigh before turning around and walking into the other direction to the detective's den. 

As he made his way silently up the stairs, not wanting to make his presence to clear yet, he heard a voice, Sherlock's voice but... who was he talking to? Greg frowned and silently made his way to the door before planting his ear against it.

“I- Well, you-you know you’re my friend. My best friend,” Who in hell was he talking to? John was gone, and who else he could call he call his best friend?   
“But- But lately-'' he heard the detective talk again, he heard a bit of anxiety in his voice and worry started to fill Greg's head, should he intervere? Should he make his presence known?   
“And-And I think- I think you know- At least, I’m pretty sure you know. I mean... I have been pretty obvious, staring at you and all, doing things you say without you even needing to ask twice, making you tea more often, I- I...'' He could hear the detective getting more nerveous by the second, who was he talking to? He didn't hear a second voice, nor even the present of another human being in the apartement behind the door, was he talking to himself? That does sound like Sherlock... he would always talk to the good doctor when he wasn't even there... Wait, was he pretending to talk to John? Greg's blood ran cold and tried to steady his breathing as he continued to listen to Sherlock's shuddering words.  
'' John I- I like... you'' He could hear the detective blurd out and Greg's mouth fell to his knees, did he mean that- that?  
"I - mean.. DAMMIT!" Greg jumped at these words and knowing the detective probably would have heard him now, he raced down the stairs of 221B and quickly making his way out of the door, turning right and started running away. Just as he thought he would be far away enough, he let himself catch some breath and went over the events that just happend. Did Sherlock really have feelings for John? Sure, at the Yard they always joked about the two of them being an ''item'' but- but this... This was totally diferent. Sherlock who has feelings for someone? He shook his head and looked up at the steel blue sky before lettinh out a puff. '' God...'' He murmmers to himself and then realised something, his file! He quickly hovered his hands over his body trying to find it but he knows bloody well were it is... It is still at Sherlocks. His blood ran cold and he could feel a bile forming in his throath. Now Sherlock would know that he knows. Should he go back? He couldn't just leave his friend in a state like this. And if he would not go back now and come back tommorrow the detective would for sure have made up some kind of plan, or explaination for what happend. He couldn't let that happen. He should talk to Sherlock about it, letting him know he is okay with it, support him or whatever. So he once again picked up his courage and took long strides to 221B

He once again made his way upto the 17 stairs and opened the door to the living area. As he opens the door he sees Sherlock, sitting on the ground, the file infront of him, the photo's that were in it were spreaded across the ground and he had his hands under his chin, not looking up to greg just yet.

''Ah Graham, I took a look at these photo's and you can't be serious about this! This is obviously a 5! The killer is clearly-'' Greg looked confused at the detective who was talking about something but the words didn't reach Greg, all he could feel was confusion. Why would Sherlock do this, he bloody well knows that he knows.

"Stop!'' Greg says with a stern voice, leaving goosebumbs on the detectives neck that is visible for Greg to see, good. Now he has his attention. '' We both know what happend just-''

"I don't know what you are talking about'' Sherlock interrupts, sounding bored.

"Oh I think you know it bloody well, Sherlock'' Greg let's out a sigh and lowers himself on the ground, placing himself opposite of Sherlock. '' I know about your feelings of John, and I want you to know it is okay to feel those feelings.'' He almost whispers. He could see Sherlock tense up by his words ''It is all okay it really is-''

''NO IT'S NOT OKAY'' Sherlock bolted onto his legs and Greg can see the frustration on his face. He slowly stands up and makes his way over to the detective, slowly placing a hand on his shoulder he can see the detective flinch at the touch.

''Sherlock...'' Greg tries but Sherlock slaps away Greg's hand and is about to walk away as Greg grabs him by his fore arm, making Sherlock hiss. Greg's brows furrow and he lifts up Sherlock sleeve to see the pinch of needles. God... '' Sherlock'' He said softly, the detective turning his face away from him. "Tell me- tell me you're not back to'' 

''Drugs? Would it matter?'' he said, jolting his arm away as he now twisted his back to him.

Silence for a moment, the stillness vibrating with tension grating down his strangled throat ''It does matter''

there was another silence, then the detective spoke again but silently, almost a whisper and if Greg wasn't focussed on it he wouldn't have heard it.

"No, these are old'' He says as his fingers trace the old scars of the needles. '' I'm not doing drugs'' he says with more power now. 

"But you do want to go back to it'' Greg whispers, and he winced, a swallow grating down his throat, '' don't you?'' 

The detective did not responce at first but after a while he shaked his head '' I don't know, I wasn't planning on it, but lately, it is like things have changed... like- like my feelings... for John and- and I don't know... How to handle all.. this'' A sad sigh leaved the detective's mouth and Greg sighed, his footfalls vibrating closer to Sherlock once again.

"God, Sherlock'' He breathed, coming up to his side, his head shaking up at him. '' I know it may be difficult, all this and I know your past drugs abuse makes it even harder for you to resist but you shouldn't go back to-''

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THEN?" Sherlock exploded, weeks of building up frustration of his feelings, the anxiety of what is to come in the next few days, all to the person who is just here to help him. ''Drugs make everything so much easier, everything clearer, maybe I can even figure all this shit out then!

"And you really think Drugs is the answer then?'' Greg shouted back at him, thrusting his furious face back into his. "Undoing everything you worked for? You're job at the Yard, your friendship with the people you have build?''

"I was better!'' 

"YOU WERE AN ADDICT! AND NOTHING MORE!'' Greg let's out, already regretting his words.

Sherlock's face fell. '' You're right. I am an addict, always have been-'' Sherlock makes his way over to the sofa and let's himself fall onto it. '' How could John ever love someone like me'' Sherlock's voice broke and so did Greg's heart.

Greg took a deep defeating sigh and made his way over to the sofa, sitting on the edge, looking down at Sherlock. '' Don't think like that Sherlock, John does love you, maybe not in the way you love him, or maybe he does! But you'll never know if you keep sulking about this, if you keep doing what you are doing, if you go back to drugs. Then you'll never find out mate.

Sherlock shudders and places his face in a pillow '' But what if I ruin everything? I can destroy our friendship.'' 

Greg let's out a little smile, '' I gues you'll never know if you never try.''

"sigh'' maybe you are right... I'll think about it.'' Sherlock looks up from his pillow to look up at Greg.

"Good, now how about you tell me how the hell you already know who the bloody murderer is you genius?''

Sherlock rolls his eyes '' even a child can see it, it is that obvious''

"I'm sure it is''


	4. I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I care about you alot...'' a blush forming on his cheeks once again, and Sherlock could feel his own face also heaten up.
> 
> Sherlock, mercifully smiled back and looked deeply into John's stormy blue eyes, these eyes told whole stories, stories of love, of war of warmth. And then it just happend...
> 
> "I am in love with you'' Sherlock breathed out.

Sherlock should have seen it coming, someone would eventually find out about his feelings for John and when Lestrade found out 2 days ago, he almost lost control. Totally letting himself go and almost thinking about going back into drugs. God what did he even think. But setting that aside, there are more important things to worry about now then John and his, he shudders, feelings. Sherlock, sitting in his chair reaches out to his side to grab his phone, seeiing the date on the lockscreen makes him go into a depressed state, Today it starts. How is he supposed to handle this the whole week? He is already bored! It is raining outside so going somewhere is already out of question. He let's out a frustrated sigh and closes his eyes for a moment. He can hear John tip tap around the flat and a grin crosses across his features, john... He can hear the footsteps come closer and Sherlock opens his eyes to meet that of the doctor. "Bored?'' he says, wearing a smirk and a thick knitted jumper the color of coffee mixed with too much milk. Why is there milk in it? He doesn't even drink- ohh...

"Yes'' he let's out a frustrated groan and hold out his arm to grab the mug from John's firm hands.

John let's out a laugh ''You're welcome,'' the blond muttered, shaking his head as Sherlock grinned. '' That coffee did cost us our last clean mug!'' 

''Your sacrifice is duly noted,'' Sherlock answered and John snorted  
''It better be'' he grumbled. Sherlock let out a snort and looked at the doctor as he made his way to his chair. He couldn't help but linger at the firm muscles in John's back that he could see through his hideous jumper. He could feel his cheeks heat up and quickly focussed on his mug filled milk coffee. He thought back to the words of Geof, should he tell John about his feelings? It could ruin their friendship forever. John would laugh at him and leave, never coming back. Sherlock shook his head. Stop thinking that! Maybe he does like you back? He never goes on dates anymore, he always stays home and rather stays in with you to watch a stupid bond movie than going to a pub for a pint or two. Sure some woman would text John somethimes, but he could see John never replying to them. He couldn't explain it, not even to himself, but there was something there, a sort of twisting pinch in his chest every time he saw John ignore a text or lie about being unavailable that weekend. He and John were just friends, but they could become so much more...  
He let's out a sigh and tries to focus on him not spilling the coffee as he takes a slurp. Maybe next week. To much going on now. But then again.. Should he tell John also about him turning into a half fish once a year? He gulpes up his still to warm to drink coffee and let's it settle on the table with a thud. He glances outside and sees it has stopped raining, finally! Maybe he could go outside, take some fresh air. He walk over to the window taking a peek outside, seeiing a figure standing infront of the door, about to enter. Or something better then a walk... a murder!  
"YES!'' Sherlock hisses through his breath, his hands forming into two balls that pop up in the air of exitement. He turns around to face the door waiting for Lestrade to come up with the news, leaving a confused John at the other side of the room

''What is it?'' John asks

"Ahh you guys are here, good'' Lestrade comments as he made his way up the stairs and into the livingroom ''How are ya?'' He says looking at John and Sherlock

"Stop the chitchat Lestrade, clearly there are more important things to attend'' Sherlock says with a flat voice, hands behind his back

''Right, well there has been a murder, few blocks down the street. Body was discovered about just a hour ago. Thought you might want to take a look'' Lestrade says with a fond smile on his face, clearly he felt quilty for Sherlock's break down a few days ago and is trying to make up for it with this murder. But it is better then sitting in the flat all day looking one to many times at the doctor in the plaided chair.

"Text the adress, we will be on our way'' Sherlock says with a dismissive hand.

"we?'' John says

Sherlock snaps his head into the doctor's direction. Ofcourse it is we? They always go togheter why does John not want to go now? Does he have a date after all? God no ''Well I- I thought-'' Sherlock stutters, blinking rapidly at John.

"Would you like to attend a crime scene with me, John?'' He says his head bobbing from one side to the other '' Well ofcourse Sherlock! God what are you nice to ask me that, let me just grab my coat'' John says with a mocking voice as he stands up and makes his way over to the kitchen were he earlier left his coat. Sherlock let's out a sigh of relieve and when he turns around he can see that Lestrade already left. He makes his way over to his coat and waits for John at the stairs before they both make their way down, looking for a cab.

As they made their way to the crime scene Sherlock couldn't help to feel uncomfortable in the cab, sitting next to John. He did not know what to say or what to talk about. so he just stared out of the window, hoping John wouldn't think any of it. He glanced over to John and could see he was on his phone, going by the state of the wrinkles in John's forehead and the pupils he was texting Harry. He stored that information into the back of his mindpalace must he need to use it later on.  
They reached the crime scene and Sherlock was about to rush out of the cab as he stopped himself. Looking over to John, who was already looking for some money in his coat, Sherlock quickly threw some money of his own over to the cab driver and made his way out of it. He couldn't let John pay for it all the time, could he?  
"Thank you'' He heard behind him, and Sherlock looked back to see the little man catching up with his long strides and looking at him with a smile.  
Sherlock just nodded and smiled back before stopping infront of a house. It then hit him that he was in great trouble as he looked at the door handle of the door, wet. I was all wet and god should he have taken his gloves with him, idiot! He scans it with his eyes and he can feel his chest thighten, His throath becoming dry and his heartbeat, going on like a madman. He tried to gasp for air, what was happening to him? He couldn't touch it, John would find out! 

"Sherlock?'' He could hear a voice, but it was like it was coming from somewhere from the distance, he could feel himself getting more panicked by the second and he needed to lean on something, he checked his surroundings, wet, wet, wet all wet! Christ! He needs air! He could feel some hands tighten around his arm, a nice warm pressence around his muscles and he could feel himself calming down just a bit, as the distant voice became more clear now.  
"Sherlock! Sherlock, it is okay, you are having a panick attack'' John explained slowly and all Sherlock could do was blink and nodding as John started to lower Sherlock to the ground, probably to let him sit down for a second- NO! The ground, water, rain, wet! Not good, totally not good

"NO!'' Sherlock blurted out, making John jump back a bit, but not letting go of Sherlock's arm.

"Sherlock it is okay, we just need to set you down for a minute-''

"No! no- no please, I don't- I can't-'' Sherlock sounded panicked and John nodded.

"Okay, okay, Sherlock then just look at me, and try to breath in and out, like I am doing now okay?'' John demonstrated Sherlock how to slowly breath in and out and Sherlock followed his lead. He could feel himself getting calmer and then he focussed on his surroundings, he could see worried faces all around him, Lestrade, Sally, he shudders, anderson. He tried to straighten his back and cleared his throath before looking at the now opened door, thank god. He closes his eyes for a second, letting out a long breath before opening them again and making his way quickly inside, away from all the water, the father the better. He can hear footsteps from behind him coming in closer and then a light pressure on his right shoulder that makes him turn around, meeting John's worried eyes.

"Sherlock? Are you okay now? I think it is the best if we go home now, you are still pretty shaky'' John says with worry in his voice and fear in his eyes, fear of Sherlock going bad again.

"I'm fine'' Sherlock says in a cold voice that leaves goosebumbs on John's arms and back. Sherlock then turns around again and makes his way through the house pointing to the hall, '' This way right?'' 

John is left in his place, his head, shaking from side to side. For once he wished Sherlock wouldn't be so studborn and just listen to what he has to say and take care of himself.

"What the hell was that?'' Sherlock can hear Anderson say. Sherlock doesn't turn around and places himself next to the body he just reached.

His eyes searched the body, 47, married +12 years, unhappy, dyed hair, stab wound in the stomach-

"Someone asked you something, freak''

His head snapping up at the words only to see sally standing their, arms crossed and a stern feature on her face. Sherlock stands up, facing her and letting out a little smile that only irritates her more.

''Panick attack, I thought that was pretty clear'' Sherlock stattes the facts.

'' Since when do you have panick attacks?'' 

"Since now, now if you will excuse me, I have a murder to solve'' He makes his way past her and walks back to were John is standing, talking to Lestrade, worry all over both their faces. Sherlock rolls his eyes, clearly they are talking about him, splendid.

"The murderer was the husband'' Sherlock says as he approaches them.

"You sure?'' Lestrade asks, his attention now focussed on Sherlock.

'' 100 percent'' Sherlock says, locking his arms behind his back as he made his way to the frontdoor, John, following him. As he walks outside he breaths in the fresh London air and takes a few more steps outside, allowing John to get out of the house.  
It then hit him. He just had a panick attack, over a bit of water. God how stupid is he?! he let's his face fall into his hands and let's out a sigh. But John... John was there for him, he helped him. He was there for him he didn't leave Sherlock to be but helped him. Sherlock felt a flustering feeling in his chest and held his hand up to hail a cab. John Watson will always keep amazing him.

As Sherlock and John made their way back to the flat they sat down, John in his chair, Sherlock on the sofa. Tension in the air.

"I- I am sorry for what happend at the crime scene, I didn't attent to get a panic-''

He can hear a low chuckle come from the other chair and Sherlock looks up in confusion. Is he laughing? Why is he laughing?

"Sherlock don't be an idiot, it is not your fault. Something triggred you to go into panick mode, it could have happend to anyone. John reasurred

"Not to you'' Sherlock says, his eyes not leaving that of John.

"Pardon" John says in confusion.

"This would never happen to you, you always know what to do John. You always know what is best for me. How to take care for me how to be there for me. And I put you up with nothing more than shit'' He takes a minute to breath, '' Why are you still here?'' 

The last bit took John clearly by suprise, as his eyes started to widen.

"I- I care about you Sherlock'' He says as his cheeks turn crimson.

He.. He is blushing? Could it be that...

"Sherlock I...'' John standed up from his chair and made his way over to Sherlock. Sitting down next to Sherlock John looked him in the eyes. Sherlock turned over to John, a little shy smile on his face. 

John smiled back, shakin his head. He reached across the gap between their legs and plucked Sherlock's hand out of his lap, interlocking their fingers before turning their combined grip up on Sherlock’s thigh, the back of John's hand balancing on the dark material of Sherlock's pants

Sherlock blinked down at it, fingers twitching as if testing the tangibility of John's, and then his eyes trailed up John's arm until he found his face.

John smiled softly at him, belatedly nervous, and he swallowed around a knot in his throat as he gave Sherlock's hand a briefly tighter grip.

"I care about you alot...'' a blush forming on his cheeks once again, and Sherlock could feel his own face also heaten up.

Sherlock, mercifully smiled back and looked deeply into John's stormy blue eyes, these eyes told whole stories, stories of love, of war of warmth. And then it just happend...

"I am in love with you'' Sherlock breathed out.

John, letting out a deep breath looked Sherlock back in the eyes and opened his mouth slightly, trying to find the right words. John couldn't do it any longer and placed on hand on the collar of Sherlock's shirt and placed one in his hair, his eyes still focussing on those gorgeous icy blue eyes, wich seemed to change from colour now and then, wich John found gorgeous. "I love you to'' John let out with a brief laugh, elated at the stark reminder of just who exactly he was sitting here with. He pulled Sherlock a little bit closer by his collar and then their lips finally met.

The kiss was hesitant at first, Sherlock's small gasp that hissed past John's lips in a break of contact. Clearly all new for Sherlock who began to respond under John's mouth. His fingers shook against John's chest when he clutched back at the beige jumper, letting out soft whimpers as John John twisted his mouth just slightly, closing entirely over Sherlock’s lips as his fingers clenched tighter into satin curls.  
After what seemed like hours, but in reallity was not more than just a minute they broke apart. Both panting for air, Sherlock's hand hovering over John's body, pupils wide as he doesn't know what to do with them.  
John chuckled, shifting his fingers through Sherlock’s hair to rub briefly at where the curls gave way to muscle beneath bare skin. '' You okay?'' 

Sherlock swallowed ''y-yes'' he stammered ''didn't uhm, expect that'' he says with a flush still on his cheek and his lips swollen. John grinned and lifted his head up again and meeting Sherlock's lips once more. It was better this time, less messy and Sherlock let out a little moan as John's tongue slidded across his lips making Sherlock open his mouth just slightly.  
Sherlock who's hands finally found their place on John's back let John take the lead as they explored each others mouth. It was like heaven. Sure he kissed someone before, but that was always for nothing more than a case. This was so different, far more loving, passionated and he loved it. He never wanted to let go of these lips, he wanted to live here to never go but after a while they broke apart again and he could see the smile in John's eyes as they both started to giggle.

''I love you'' Sherlock couldn't help but to repeat it and repeat it all over again. Because it was all true, he loved this man. And this man loved him back, for all that he was and he knew now that John wouldn't leave him.

The sun was stretched in through the open window, catching on dust before coming to rest in John’s hair, glittering prismatically off the flaxen strands. God what was he beautiful. He wanted. For the first time, he really wanted, and not just in touch and taste and any other tangible way. He wanted to be with John. Wanted to count the creases around his eyes when he laughed, wanted to know how John would fall asleep, how he would wake up, how it would feel like to wake up next to this wonderfull man. John smiled at him, like he could read his mind or something like that and couldn't help but to plant another chased kiss onto John's soft lips.

"How are we gonna do it?'' John asks, smile still on his face.

Sherlock, still drowning in John's eyes can bring nothing more out then a hmm?

John chuckles '''Where are we going to sleep, git'' 

"Oh right'' Sherlock stares at his bedroom '' I thought it would be the best if... we took mine I mean- It is the closest to everything''

"Sounds good'' John says smiling, planting another kiss on Sherlock's cupid bow lips before standing up and walking over to the kitchen. ''tea?''

"Yes'' Sherlock let himself lay back on the sofa looking at the celling, smiling from ear to ear '' yes, please''

John's hairline meets his eyebrows '' A love confession and a please, all on the same day, it must be christmas!'' 

"Cheers'' Sherlock brings out with a smile.

John chuckles and focus himself on making the tea.

Sherlock places his hands under his chin and is about to store all these beautiful memories in his mind palace as he hears the door to the apartement open. As he looks up he can see it is Lestrade standing in the doorway.

"Oi, mate! Just hear to check on ya, you gave us a pretty big scare back at the crime scene you know'' Lestrades brings out as he takes a few steps inside and Sherlock can see Lestrade taking in Sherlock appereance, his ruffled hair, his messed up shirt and swollen lips must even be visible for the stupidest idiot to see.

"Oh did I interrupt something?'' He says givin a wink to Sherlock, who rolls his eyes.

''No, leave'' Sherlock says, closing his eyes again as John makes his way into the living room with to warm cups of tea in his hands, placing on on the table next to Sherlock before turning around to the detective inspector.

"Oi, Greg!'' John says with a big smile on his face. '' Sherlock is doing fine... er, we are doing fine ectually'' he says a blush forming on his face.

Greg grins from ear to ear '' Well cheers!'' He makes his way back to the door '' I will leave you guys to it then'' he says, leaving with a wink, leaving both, Sherlock and John with a crimson red face.

John clears his throath and makes his way to Sherlock, lifting up his legs as he sits down, placing them back gently on his lap. Sherlock looking up at the process with a big smile on his face. "You are an idiot'' Sherlock says.

"I love you to'' John responces back, sticking his tongue out of his mouth before starting to chuckle, Sherlock joining him.

John to busy with laughing to focus on his tea, spills some of it over Sherlock's legs.

"Oh shit! sorry Sherlock I-'' He could see the panic forming on the detective's face as he quickly stood up and made his way over to the bathroom ''Sherlock?!'' John placed his cup on the table and rushed over to the now closed bathroom. He tried to open it, without succes. "Sherlock?!'' Pannick in his voice.  
He could hear a loud thud, like someone fall onto the floor and it followed with a pained groan. "Sherlock are you okay?'' John tried again, panick rising.

"I'm fine John'' A weak voice came from the other side of the door.

Sherlock took a deep sigh as he looked down at what once were his legs. That was a close call, to close. 

"Can you let me in Sherlock? Did you fell?'' He could hear the worry in the little mans voice and he almost fellt guilty for not being able to tell what was going on.

"No- no I am fine John, just got shocked a bit that's all, I'll come out in a bit'' He lied

He could hear a sigh coming from the other side of the door '' Alright Sherlock''

He could hear John's footsteps retreat back to the livingroom and he let out a sigh of relieve. He let's himself fall back onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. What is he supposed to de next? Should he tell John? No, he just had him, he couldn't mess this up already. He could come up whit an excuse, but what? What could he say? He closes his eyes for a bit, trying to come up with a plan and after a while, he realices that his tail is gone and two human legs were now hanging from his torso. He made his way upright and walked out of the bathroom door, immidiatly meeting John's gaze.

"Look John, what just happend I-'' He takes a sigh and walks closer to the doctor, should he really tell him? ''I- I am kind of afraid of the water, that is also why I had that panick attack back at the crime scene, and now before you think I am crazy, I have my reasons for it but I- I do not feel comfortable talking about it right now I am sorry John I just-'' As Sherlock stammered out all these words he hadn't noticed John coming up to him and closing his arms around the detective himself.

"It is okay Sherlock, I get that and if you do want to talk about it, I am here'' Sherlock let's out a breath of relief and wraps his arms around Johns back, his head finding a nice spot in the crook of John's neck ''Thank you, John'' Sherlock breaths out.

"Dinner?'' John asks

"Starving'' Sherlock says with a huf, still not letting go of his John.


	5. Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock blinked at him, mouth popping open, staring at John's lips. God does he want to taste them, feel them, feel him. And then as if John could read his mind he dropped down in a blur, lips just barely brushing against Sherlock's before he pulled back up again, Sherlock's vision was al blurry and he could see the blond talking to him, something he couldn't quit make out. ''Wha?'' Sherlock let's out with a breath.

Sherlock set his cuppa of tea down on the table opposite of John with a bang that made John's own cuppa coffee rattle on its plate. Sherlock deposited himself in the chair, and leaned towards him, elbows on the table.   
"Any interresting cases? Bodies? ANYTHING?" Sherlock asks anxiety "I am bored out of my mind so please tell me there is something interresting that is worth my time.'' It has only been one day since his last case and the detective was already bored again. John places down his cuppa of tea with a sigh and looks up at the detective  
''You had a case yesterday Sherlock! And I can not allow you another one this soon, yesterday you had an anxienty attack and I don't want to see you like that again.'' John says with a stern look on his face.  
Sherlock let's out a groan and lifts up his knees to his chest, starting his sulking progress.  
John let all a small laugh at the sight of Sherlock sulking as a child and stood up to get himself another cuppa, giving Sherlock a loving kiss on the top of his head along the way. They admitted their feelings for eachother yesterday and he couldn't feel any happier. Ofcourse this did not mean that the detective would stop his sulking.

Sherlock's eyes linger to John and follows him every move. He can still not believe that John, John Watson like him! He smiled at the thought and stood up to follow John into the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter to look John in the eyes, giving him a quick kiss as he sees someone standing in the living room.

Sherlock rolls his eyes knowing exactly who it is. ''Most people knock'' He says with a bored voice as he takes 3 long strides to the livingroom ''Mycroft'' he says with a sneer.

"Goodmorning brother mine'' Mycroft says with a cold smile '' I am glad I could meet you here''

"It is my home, it is not like I had any choice in that'' Sherlock says as he scans the man infront of him. ''What do you want''

Mycroft raises his eyebrows '' Can't I visit my little brother once in a while?'' 

"No, you can't, now what is it'' Sherlock cooed.

Mycroft takes a sigh as he walks deeper into the livingroom. "You can drop the facade, brother mine'' Mycroft says flatly as he faces the window, his umberrela at his side. 

"Facade?'' Sherlock responces with a hint of confusion.

John makes his way into the livingroom with his tea '' Ah morning Mike'' John says cheerfully, just to irritate the older Holmes.

Mycroft turns around and gives a not so amused smile at the shorter man before focussing back on his little brother '' The facade of you being emotionless. I know the leap, your relationship with John has taken since yesterday. And I am just hear to say, that I am glad it finally happend'' Mycroft says, already making his way back to the door, about to leave as he turns his face towards John. ''I hope I do not have to treaten you, so you do not hurt my little brother'' 

"I think we would find that both emberrassing'' John says crossing his arms as Sherlock let's out a snort

Mycroft gave John a stern look before once again making his leave. 

Sherlock turned towards John and slowly lifted his hand up to his cheek. God what was he gorgeous it almost took his breath away. He could feel his jaw opening up and he could hear something, wait did he just jawn? 

John let out a soft chuckle '' Didn't sleep that much love?'' John asks as he followed Sherlocks jawline with the tip of his fingers.

"I did, I gues I am just a bit tired still.'' Sherlock said looking away a bit.

"We could take a nap or something? Didn't had much sleep either.

They hadn't slept in the same room yet, yesterday after watching what seemed like the 100th bond movie, Sherlock fell asleep on the couch. John smiling at this decided to carry the suprisingly light detective to his bed before retreating to his own room. Sure they discussed that they would share a room from now on. But John had felt to unsure to do so yet. So he slept in his own room, feeling bad about it all night, not being able to close an eye.

"Sleeping on the middle of the day? Are we already becoming an old couple?'' Sherlock said to mock John.

''You git''

Sherlock let out a soft chuckle '' Sure we could take a nap'' He said as he took John's hand and made his way to THEIR bedroom. Once they were inside he became a bit unsure, but sat down on the bed anyway taking John with him. They let themself fall down on their back and it seems only to take John one minute before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

Sherlock looked at the man who was on his side, face pointed toward the window where he lay on what was, from Sherlock’s perspective, the left side of the bed. His brow was relaxed, nostrils shifting as he breathed, his shoulder rising and falling with the exchange of oxygen. The duvet was pulled up under his chin, the tips of his fingers protruding from beneath the navy fabric, and, as Sherlock shifted lightly not sure if he should put an arm around the other man, would it be to soon? As he was about to put an arm around the man he could feel a hand grabbing his shoulder, pulling him in closer. He could feel the beating of John's heart in his chest and it was wonderfull. He closed his eyes and let's the sleep overtake him.  
He woke up just about a hour later with John staring at him.

''We should talk about not staring at me when I try to sleep'' Sherlock says meeting John's eyes

''Git'' John chuckles as he pushes himself above Sherlock smiling down on the detective.

Sherlock blinked at him, mouth popping open, staring at John's lips. God does he want to taste them, feel them, feel him. And then as if John could read his mind he dropped down in a blur, lips just barely brushing against Sherlock's before he pulled back up again, Sherlock's vision was al blurry and he could see the blond talking to him, something he couldn't quit make out. ''Wha?'' Sherlock let's out with a breath. The blonde shook his head in amusement before dropping down again once more. He didn't leave this time, shifting from his palms to his elbows as he lay just over Sherlock, touching, but not quite pressing down. At first the kiss was soft, gentle but soon turned into something more heated John's tongue sweeping over Sherlock's as he pushed rough against his lips. A moan escaped Sherlock's throath that made John giggle a bit, but not enough to lose focus.  
John latched onto the skin at the base of his neck, the pressure almost painful as Sherlock gasped, hand snapping to John's shoulder as he dug his fingers in his skin, leaving a mark on Sherlock's neck.   
He panted as John released him, tongue soothing a stripe over the flushed skin. God did he want to see the mark, the mark that John left on him, a sign that he is Johns and Johns Sherlocks. The image of the mark on his neck sent a spike of arousal rocketing through his gut.  
John's breath hitched, a shiver running through him as he moved up, forehead brushing with Sherlock's as they panted over one another's faces. ''Sherlock'' John says panthing ''I think we should stop here, I mean you have never- I have never with a man, what I am trying to say is maybe we should take it slow''  
''I-'' Sherlock looked up at the man ontop of him and made little movements around John's broad shoulders. "I.. don't want to stop'' he breaths out.  
John looks down at him, his eyes full of passion ''Are- are you sure, love?''  
All Sherlock cold do was nod and he could hear John was a bit unsure.  
''If you are uncomfortable with anything I do-''

"I will let you know, John I feel comfortable with you, I-I trust you, John'' he looks the blond deeply in the eyes and he can hear John letting out a breath. John's mouth fell back to that of Sherlock and Sherlock let's out a moan at the sudden contact, letting his hands wander around the sandy blond hair of John's scalp.  
John bit at his lip in response, and Sherlock's head went blank, his body, out of his control as his hips lifted to brush with John's.  
They both gasped out of their mouths, John pulling back for a minute to look at the man underneath him ''God you look so beautiful'' John says as Sherlock's cock strained against his pajamas to brush at John's abdomen. John let's out a moan and bents down to once again meet lips with the brunnette. Waist grinding down against Sherlock's groin, and actual stars sparked behind Sherlock's eyelids as his neck snapped back. He never felt such pleasure before in his life and god did he love it. He started tugging at John's shirt, wanting desperatly to remove it, John getting the hint takes a break from the make out session to remove both of their shirts. Sherlock trembled when John reached the waistband of his trousers, hovering there a moment, as if uncertain, and then, painfully slowly, he turned his hand, sweeping a thumb down over the cotton-cloaked head of Sherlock's erected cock.  
John dove back to his lips, simultaneously slipping further down to palm Sherlock's erection through his trousers, and Sherlock was going to die, he was sure of it. He was sure he was about to die just then. The pleasure almost becoming to much. And then it got even worse, a shiver ranning down his spine, the flustering feeling forming in his stomach as John's warm fingers slipped beneath the fabric. The hand that wasn't hovering all over John's body was now on the duvet, grabbing on for dear life as John started to move up and down Sherlock's shaft. John slipped his tongue in around Sherlock's mouth and the detective could almost scream from pleasure. He could feel he was close ''John'' he breathed, wanting to let the good doctor know but he couldn't bring out much more as John started to speed up and leaving Sherlock lost for words. 

“John!” Sherlock panted

And then he could feel it, it was something like he never felt before, he couldn't even wrap his head around it. His hand slipped from John’s hair, no feeling left in his arms, and he could barely keep his eyes open, he was getting so tired all of the sudden. He looked at his side to see the doctor laying on his side, facing him with a brode smile, he gave the detective a small kiss on his forehead ''You should sleep now Sherlock'' The doctor said in a soft voice.

''But you- I haven't'' Sherlock slurs 

"Not now, love'' he says with a soft smile, that makes Sherlock's heart fluster '' Go to sleep'' He gives the detective one last kiss before sleep takes over.


	6. What have I done...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock didn't plan for this to happen, never ever did he want this to happen

Things couldn't be more perfect right now, it was like everything was fitting in it's place. He should have told John about his feelings sooner if he knew the actions that would follow would happen.  
It is late at night and Sherlock smiles at himself, he is in love and he can't help it. He walks down a dark road alone, since John has a night shift at the hospital. He was bored at home and decided to go for a walk.  
Sherlock checked his phone, it was almost midnight he should probably-  
''UFF'' Sherlock let out with a groan as he fell on the street. Confused he looked at his legs and saw that they were replaced with his fish tail, panick raised. He quickly looked around himself and could see the streets were empty, he could breath again.  
He knew he couldn't just lie around here on the streets, someone would eventually walk by.  
He started to move around on his arms, to the nearest allyway. How did this even happen? Where did that water came from?  
This is what you get for not paying focus, he could hear the voice in the back of his head say.  
"Oh shut up'' He sneers as he reaches the ally.  
There is not much to hide behind so he crawls to the corner, hoping no-one will take notice of him.   
This could ruin everything, someone could walk by and see him for the freak he really is, he was so carefull when he left the apartement, he wore gloves and all and still...   
Sherlock let's out a deep huff as he hears footsteps coming closer, not daring to look up he can see two feet infront of him.  
He hears a loud gasp and that is when he dares himself to look up.  
Sherlock scans the person who is standing infront of him.  
A man, around his 40thies, short hair, recently divorced, hints of an affair and totally aware of the monster that is sitting infront of him.  
'' W-What are you?" The man stutters, a hint of amazement in his trembling voice.  
Sherlock closed his eyes, what could he do? THINK!  
"Are you a- a mermaid? What... around you that funny detective from the telly?''   
shit. Sherlock's blood ran cold, he knew what he was and even worse, he knew who he was. Sherlock's heart started to skip a few beats and he could feel tears form in his eyes. He felt hopeless, he couldn't do anything, what can he do? He would go to the press, he could take a photo and run away. THINK, FOCUS, BREATH.  
"H-hello?'' the man asks with a nerveous voice, as he takes out his phone, and takes a quick photo ''Mr Holmes?''  
Sherlock let's out a huf, as he feels his tail change once more into a pair of legs.  
Sherlock let's his gaze wander to the shocked man infront of him who is gaping at him.  
"WHAT THE HELL!'' He almost screams.  
"Shh!'' Sherlock quickly gets up and moves his finger to his mouth, hinting the man to stop.  
"I- how did you'' the man tries  
'' I need you to delete that photo, now and quickly'' Sherlock interrups.  
"What? No! No way this photo could make me rich!'' The man let's out with a laugh.  
God what can he do now, all the options crossing Sherlock's mind and only one at last remaining.   
"C-can you atleast help me a bit'' Sherlock says as he lowers himself to the ground a bit, sneaking a rock behind his back in the progress ''I- my legs are still very weak'' Sherlock says in a weak voice.  
The man looks at Sherlock and then lowers himself a bit going to help Sherlock as ''BAMF''  
Sherlock hits the middle aged man with the rock on the back of his head, causing him to fall on the ground next to Sherlock, Panick, anxiety raising through Sherlock veins.  
He hits the man again, and again and again, tears prickling in his eyes as he finally stops himself, looking down at the mess he made. He could feel a bile forming in his throath and he was about to throw up. What did he do? He feels sick, sick of himself, sick of the thing he just did and he let's the rock fall out of his trembling hand. He quickly looks around him, no security camera's no witnesses.   
He quickly grabs the man's phone. Password protected. Ofcourse it is, the man had an affair not so long ago. He tries a few simple paterns and succeed to break into the man's phone, quickly he deletes the photo from the man's phone and the cloud and places it back in the man's pocket. He is lucky he wore gloves this whole time and quickly scans the scene of any evedince he has been here. His body rushing with adrenaline as he quickly makes his way out of the ally, after scanning his surroundings once more.   
He makes his way back to bakerstreet and rushes up the stairs once he reaches it. He looks in the mirror and can see the blood of the man running down his high cheekboned face. He let's out a sigh and quickly cleans it of with some toilet paper and flushes the evidence away quickly. He then checks his clothes. There is not alot of blood on it. He takes of his big long coat and starts running cold water over the blood stained spots on his coat. He looks around the apartement for something to remove the blood with and finds some hydrogen peroxide. He quickly rans it over his coat and washes it of before it leaves to much stains. He dries it as much he can with a towel before hanging it on his usual spot. He is in luck John isn't home yet. He cleans up the mess he has made in the bathroom and then makes his way over to the sofa. He let's himself fall on it dramaticly and let's out a huff.  
It then really hits him, he just killed a man. The one thing he would never do, the one thing he vowed. All these years people saw him as this cold blooded monster and he just proved them they are right. He places his still cold hands over his face. What did he do? How could he have done this. It seemed like the logical option back in the allyway. The only solution. But he could just have pickpocket the phone out of his pocket or something like that. No-one would believe his crazt story about Sherlock Holmes being a merman anyway. He would declare the man crazy and blame it on the lack of sleep caused by his recent divorce.   
He let's out another sigh. Good thing there weren't any camera's in that part of town, not even of the british goverment, Mycroft would never find out about this, no-one can find out about this, he would go to jail for murder.  
He let's his hands fall beside him and looks at the celling. The yard would probably call him tommorrow, to solve this murder, the murder he commited. This couldn't be any worse. He should come up with a story, or just admid to them he hasn't got a clue who the killer is. Donavon would love that, pointing out that he isn't that smart after all. But he should just have to endure that. As long as they don't find out it is him. As long as John doesn't find out he will be okay.


	7. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh yeah just, thinking I gues'' Sherlock tries to hide his answer with a sip of his tea.  
> '' You gues?'' John let's out a small huff ''I thought Sherlock Holmes never guessed'' He points out to Sherlock with a smile crossing his face. Sherlock knows he is just teasing him, but can't help but getting more and more nerveous. He swallows one more time, trying to calm his nerves.  
> "Yes- I uhm. I guess I am just tired'' Sherlock lies, but John seems to take the bait.  
> "Okay love, then let's get to bed'' he says as he stands up, walking over to Sherlock to takes his almost empty cup and walks with them to the kitchen. Sherlock's eyes following John with every move.

He could feel his heart beating at full speed as John walked into the apartement. He looked exhausted, probably from all the patients he had.  
John's gaze wanderd around the apartement and fell on the long legged detective sitting in his chair, his voilin dangling betweend his tender hands.  
''Still up I see'' John stated as he moved over to his chair, falling down with a tud, finally being able to relax.  
"hmmh" Is all Sherlock let's out as he scratched the back of his head with his violin bow, obviously in deep thought. John notices this and decides to leave him to it, going to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.  
''Why are you still up anyway? It is almost 4 in the morning Sherlock'' John says, looking over his shoulder to the detective who is still sitting in his chair.  
Sherlock panics. Sure he had come up with several excuses the last hour or so, of why he was still up. He couldn't just simply have gone to bed, to much thoughts and John would notice he was faking his sleep. So there was no other option for him to stay awake. He had several options planned, all so clever and withy of why he wasn't sleeping but the only thing that could come out of his mouth was-  
"Couldn't sleep'' Sherlock blurted out.  
Shit now he would keep asking questions about everything.  
"Oh why is that?'' John asks as he walks back into the living area with two warm cups of tea in his hand of wich, he gifs one to Sherlock.  
Sherlock reaches out with his hands to accept the tea, blowing a bit at it, to give him more time to think of an answer.  
"I- I just simply couldn't sleep, so I thought I could wait for you to come home'' Sherlock answers, regretting every word because how stupid does it sound John would ofcourse think more of it.  
"Ah you peach'' John teases.  
Sherlock let's out a laugh, John responding with a wink wich makes Sherlock roll his eyes.  
"Well after this tea maybe you could give it another try'' John says as he takes a sip ''I will even hug you to sleep, if it's needed'' John says with a smile.  
Sherlock smiles back at him. This went so much easier than he could have ever dreamed of. But then ofcourse, the real problems would occur tommorrow, when Lestrade comes to him with a new murder case, his murder case.   
Sherlock swallows thickly and get's a bit nerveous by the thought.  
"You okay, love?'' John asks, a frown forming on his face.  
"Oh yeah just, thinking I gues'' Sherlock tries to hide his answer with a sip of his tea.  
'' You gues?'' John let's out a small huff ''I thought Sherlock Holmes never guessed'' He points out to Sherlock with a smile crossing his face. Sherlock knows he is just teasing him, but can't help but getting more and more nerveous. He swallows one more time, trying to calm his nerves.  
"Yes- I uhm. I guess I am just tired'' Sherlock lies, but John seems to take the bait.  
"Okay love, then let's get to bed'' he says as he stands up, walking over to Sherlock to takes his almost empty cup and walks with them to the kitchen. Sherlock's eyes following John with every move.  
How could he have done this. He was a murderer now and nothing could change that, someone will find out eventually, they always will. It could be days, months, or if it is just left over to Scotland Yard, years from now! But they will find out, and John would leave him. Leave him forever to never return.  
Sherlock let's out a huf thinking back to this morning, the amazing time he and John had and how wonderfull it had been. It seems now like such a long time ago, He had his secrets then and he has his secrets now so why did it feel so different all of the sudden? Sure, killing someone is maybe a bit more gore and bigger than being a merman but still...  
He sees John returning to the living room and walking over to him.  
"Ready for bed love?'' He says with a warm smile. God how did he ever deserve someone as good as John Watson he don't know.  
"Yes'' He says silently as he walks with him to their bedroom.  
After some preperations they both lie down on the soft cotton. Sherlock facing the wall, feeling to much guilt to look John in the eyes.  
"Goodnight love'' He can hear from behind him as the light turns off.  
He can feel two pair of arms wrap around his body from behind. His stomach turns. He doesn't deserve this, this love, John, being hugged, everything!   
Sherlock closes his eyes and swallows back a bile that had formed in his throath.  
Oh John... He thinks to himself. Where did I go wrong? I lost myself, somewhere along the bitterness, what has become of me? Will you still love me the same, knowing I just killed a man? Would you still think the same of me? Would you still be amazed by me? Or would you just look at me in disgust and leave me?   
Sherlock can feel tears forming in his eyes, all these years of solving murders, never did he thought he would be on the other side of things, not even once. But it had happend, and now he has to live with it.

Sherlock feels a heavy weight in his hand. He can not see it nor can he deduce what it is. He feels sick, a smell off blood and death, making his ways through his nostrills.   
He can feel his lungs being filled. What is it? What is going on?  
Finally he can open his eyes, he sees a body infront of him and the heavy weight in his hand is the stone with wich he took someone's live. He want's to drop it, throw it away but all he can do is look at it. How it is covered with the blood of an innocent. Someone who has done nothing wrong and yet. Now their blood is on Sherlock's hands. He can feel himself getting sick and he can feel the liqued in his lungs coming up. He can not hold it in any longer an as it is leaving his mouth he can see what it is, horror returning to Sherlock's face as blood is streaming out of his mouth.  
He tries to scream but no-one can hear him, no-one can save him from what he as become.

''BANGBANG''  
Sherlock startles awake, looking quickly around him to see John still sleeping.  
''BANGBANG'' He looks beside him and deduces the sound comes from behind the bedroom door, someone is knocking on it.  
"Oi Sherlock you in there?'' He can hear Lestrade's voice from outside the door.  
Sherlock can feel his throath getting dry, ''Yes I- I will be right out'' He responces.  
He looks beside him again to see a fully awake John now looking up at him.  
"Exited?'' He asks with a small smile.  
Sherlock looks down at him in confusion. ''What?'' He asks.  
John does a Sherlock eye roll '' He probably is here for a murder or something, why else would he knock on our door at this hour in the morning with such hurry?'' John says, bit proud of his deduction.  
Sherlock can see the proud look on John's face and can't help but roll his eyes at him after giving him a small smile.  
Sherlock rolls out of bed and puts on his blue dressing gown before storming out of the bedroom.  
"What do you want Lestrade?'' Sherlock asks trying to calm down his nerves.  
Greg turns to him with a big smile on his face '' Oh you're gonna love this one!'' He walk toward the low table by the sofa and places the file on it. '' Middle aged man, murdered last night in an allyway with nothing more than a brick, leaving no other evedince behind we are at our lost''  
Sherlock scans the file quickly, pannick raising ''Boring!'' He let's out loudly before making his way over to the kitchen.  
John walks out of the bedroom fully dressed ''Hey, Greg!'' He says happily.  
"Morning John'' He returns before looking into Sherlock's direction ''I know it is not a tripple murder or a serial killer but it has to atleast tickle your funny bone a bit!'' Greg desperatly says.  
Sherlock ignores him and focus himself on making his morning tea.  
John takes the file from the table and takes a look at it. ''Hey Sherl, It does look like a good one, you can atleast take a look at it''   
"Sherl?'' Greg askes with a confused smile.  
"I mean you got nothing else going on today, and If you don't take it you're only gonna complain about it later on'' John states  
Sherlock let's out a groan in responce, he can't go to the crime scene he just can't.  
"He will take the case'' John says as he gives the file back to Greg.  
"I. Am. What?!'' Sherlock pronounces.  
"Text us the adress we will be there in 10'' John says to Greg, ignoring the detective.  
"Thanks, mate'' Greg says as he relieved walks out of the door.  
Sherlock takes a few long strides before standing infront of the sandy blonde man.  
"Why did you say I would take the case!'' Sherlock exclaims, hands above his head.  
"Because, love'' John gently takes hold of Sherlock's arms, placing them at his side again and looking him in the eyes '' You need this. And otherwise you will complain all day'' He says, letting go of Sherlock before walking away.  
"You better get dressed, we need to be there in 8'' John says over his shoulder to Sherlock.  
Sherlock let's out a groan and walks to his bedroom to go get on some clothes.  
"7! And you'll be thanking me later!'' John says with a smile as he sees a shoe flying out of the bedroom into his direction.


	8. maybe I could get used to this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short chapter

It was like the world was moving in slow motion. Everytying that happend around Sherlock seemed to halter. He could hear voices, but they seemed so far away, untouchable, out of his reach. And than it all came back to him, as soon as he and John reached the crime scene. Sherlock walks into the allyway, with John by his side. He tries to control his breathing and he seems like he is getting away with it, nobody is looking any different at him. Sherlock stops dead in his tracks as he comes upon a body on the ground, a body he putted there. He swallows heavily and takes a deep breath through his nose.  
"You okay, love?'' He can hear coming from his right, he turns his face to see the worry in John's eyes. Shit. Does he look different than normal after all?  
"I'm fine John, just taking it all in'' Sherlock says with a dismissive wave of his hand.  
He turns his attention back to the body on the ground. No way to deduce what happend because he knows all to well what happend to this man.  
"Got anything?'' Lestrade asks as he walks up to John and Sherlock, placing himself beside the two men.  
"Male, around 40, course of dead is multiple blows to the head with that brick'' He quickly points a finger to the brick that is still laying on the ground. ''The person who killed him must have used a lot of force, probably man then, and laying somewhere or sitting on the ground, probably lurring the man into helping him and then, he made his move.'' He says, trying to sound as bored as possible.  
Lestrade takes his time to write all this down and then gives another look into Sherlock's direction.  
"Got anything else? Any idea who the killer could be?'' He asks with hope.  
Sherlock let's out a huf and looks at the body again.   
"No, But it probably is some Junkie from the streets, not leaving any evedince behind'' He says as he pulls his eyes from the body and looks up at Greg '' Impossible to trace down really, even for me'' He says looking away '' If the killer is smart it would have already left the city so I can not really help you out with this one, morning'' He adds quickly as he begins storming of the crime scene, John running behind him to keep up with him.  
He can't feel but a sence of pride. He got away with it just like it was nothing! He let's out a little smile and all the guilt he felt earlier that night and this morning all washes away from him. It is replaced with exitement. This really was something else than just solving a murder. This was something new, something that got his blood pumping again like it did with his first ever crime scene. Maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this.


	9. John's thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John knows something is up

Everything seemed to go so great, me and Sherlock were finally togheter after all this time, and we shared an amazing morning togheter. But ever since that day, Sherlock has been acting... strange, I mean- stranger than usual, not Sherlock strange but, yeah... just- ''sigh'' he seems to be a bit off. It has been 3 days since that day and Sherlock is out of the apartement, alot. I know he is hiding somehting from me, I just can't seem to find out what. He is my friend, my boyfriend and I want to be there for him, I really do, but god I wish he would let me in more. He even seem to not be interested in the crime scenes anymore. It all started 2 days ago when a man was murdered with a brick. Sherlock waved it of like it was something impossible to solve. He did the same thing with the murder yesterday, and this morning.  
His mind is of somewhere else and I wish he would just talk to me.


	10. The secret is out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I change in what some people call, a mermaid'' Sherlock stated, trying to hold himself strong for John's reaction, wich he knew, would be bad.  
> "I don't understand'' the blonde let out  
> "I- I get a fishtail when I touch water'' Sherlock says silently.  
> "I still don't understand

It has been 3 days since my first murder. And once again I am standing above a body, cause of dead, me.   
I let out a satisfied sigh as I quickly cleaned my knife before taking of into the night again.  
I let my mind wander off to John. John... He must know by now somehing is up, he is not stupid. Sherlock knows all to well once he comes home John will want to talk to him.   
He must admit... alot has happend in just a week. Lot's of difficulties on his way, turning into a merman, murdering, and the best part of all, getting togheter with John.  
His heart flusters at the thought of him. His sweet John, who deserves the best in the world, has a murdering, monsterous boyfriend. John has this image planted in his brain of Sherlock being a hero, the one who helps everyone. He doesn't see the freak, he takes Sherlock for who he is. And he loves him for that. He loves John so much.  
But when John will find out he is a murderer he will leave him. It is that simple. John has been putting up with alot of shit from Sherlock, but this will be to much for him. Sherlock is sure of it.  
God John wouldn't be the only one who would hate him, everyone will see him for the monster he is, the yard, his brother, his so called fans.  
He let's out a little laugh. Scotland Yard still has no clue. Sure, they may have noticed him being a bit off this week with the murder cases. He still needs to figur out how to maybe frame someone for his murders, that should do the trick.  
"PAF''   
Sherlock let's out a groan as he noticed he walked straight into the door of his apartement. He shouldn't let himself get so lost in thoughts.  
He opens the door with a swift movement and strides upstairs.  
Once he opens the door to the livingroom he can see John sitting in his chair. He quickly walks up to him and gives him a kiss on the back of his head.  
"Evening, love'' Sherlock says as he places his hands on John's shoulders from behind.  
He can feel John's hand slide onto his ''Evening'' he says back softly before turning his face up to Sherlock ''Love, I- I think we should talk''  
Sherlock could feel his blood pumping, he knew John would want to talk about his behavior once he would get home, but didn't expect it this fast.  
He cleared his throath as he slid his hand away from under John's touch and made his way over to his own chair '' Alright'' He says, looking anywere but into John's eyes.  
He could hear John let out a soft breath.  
"Sherlock, I know something is going on with you, maybe something is bothering you, or- or maybe it is us, dating that has made you act this way but-''  
"W-what?'' Sherlock says confused '' N-no John, this has nothing to do with us dating now, really'' Sherlock put his hand in the air to reasure John. ''But, I-'' he swallows thickly ''Maybe there is something else, something I- I have meant to say to you for a while now'' he let's out, cursing to himself immidiatly after. Now he had to or, come up with something or tell one of his secrets.  
"What is it love? You know you can tell me everything, right?'' concern in his voice  
Sherlock let's out a sigh '' I- I can't tell you I-'' He swallows '' You'll leave me, when I tell you!'' He almost exclaimed, he could feel tears forming in his eyes ''And you should leave me! I wouldn't blame you if you did! I- I am a monster John!'' He could feel something wet streaming across his cheek, why was he crying about this? God John would see the mess he really is...  
''I-I don't know how to leave, even when I should leave you, for some reason, I wouldn't Sherlock'' He let's out a sigh ''Whatever it is, whatever you are struggling with, I will not leave you, I never will, love'' John stands up as he makes his way over to Sherlock, who is crying infront of him.  
Sherlock pinched his eyes shut, a single tear breaking loose to darken a splotch on his black trousers, and he swallowed hard, drawing a breath before he could look up again, finding John blinking watery eyes toward his face.  
"I would never leave you Sherlock, whatever it is, you can tell me'' John's voice broke.  
He screwed his eyes shut, trying to think through the shame, but what could he say? What even was there to say, what possible combination of syllables could even make a dent in the damage he'd done, the secret's he had kept from this wonderfull person, who deserved so much more...   
''John'' he wept, dropping his head, dimly registering a rush of movement before he was enveloped in the warm wool of John's jumper.  
"Shhh'' John soothed, pressing Sherlock into his shoulder. His fingers hovering into Sherlock's hair.  
He didn't deserve it, to be the one comforted he was a horrible person, a murderer after all.  
''John?'' he murmured, and the scruff of the blond's chin brushed against his forehead.  
"I am- Once a year I-'' He let out a huffering breath. The blonde drew himself back a bit to look Sherlock in the eye '' Once a year, I got this week, this week for a mather of fact, that is why I have been acting so strange on the crime scenes and all, I-'' He swallows thickly ''When I come in contact with water, I change'' he let's out in one breath, looking down at his lap, not wanting to see the reaction of the shorter man.  
"What- What do you mean Sherlock?'' he could hear confusion in the man's voice. Sherlock looked up into his eyes, John wouldn’t believe him, not at this moment. It did sound a bit weird after all.  
"I change in what some people call, a mermaid'' Sherlock stated, trying to hold himself strong for John's reaction, wich he knew, would be bad.  
"I don't understand'' the blonde let out  
"I- I get a fishtail when I touch water'' Sherlock says silently.  
"I still don't understand, You have touched water before, I saw you walking in the rain chasing some criminal, it doesn't make sence, love'' He says with a frown on his face.  
"But it is true! And yes I have but did you recall me wanting to be near any rain for the past few days?'' He said in a hurry '' Because I'll change when I do! I get a horrible tail and all! He let out.  
John stood up and made a little walk around the apartement, he could see the disapointement all over his features.  
Sherlock didn’t say anything, didn't even move beyond his eyes following John's progress, and, eventually, the blond slowed, coming to a stop a few feet from Sherlock with a sigh.  
"Sherlock, what did you use?'' He says with a stern voice.  
Sherlock did nothing but blink and tried to progress John's words. Did- did he really think he was back on drugs? That he was just talking nonsence?   
Sherlock let out a laugh.  
He could feel himself getting angry now, how could he say something like that! Why would he make up a story like that! He would never do that even if he was high of his tits for god sake.  
"I'm not back on drugs'' Sherlock almost snapped, before standing up and making a few long strides towards the kitchen.  
"Sherlock, please come back and talk. I am not mad I-'' John tries to talk to the detective.  
"WHY WOULD I LIE'' Sherlock screamed, loud enough for probably even the neighbours to hear.  
John swallowed, dropping his eyes a moment before lifting them again, '' I am trying to believe you, love'' He let's out a breath '' but it does sounds kind of, off''  
Sherlock ignores John's words and pours himself a glass of water, making sure not to spill something over himself just yet.  
He walked back to the livingroom, pacing towards John.  
"I'll show you'' Sherlock says as he stands infront of John before throwing the glass of water in his face.  
"Oh love'' He can hear the pitty in John's voice as nothing directly happens. But then he can feel the change.  
Sherlock falls on the ground and John let's out a gasp  
"Sherlock!''   
He can see his legs melting togheter, forming one long tail. He looks at it a few more seconds before daring to look up at John, who is staring at him in astonishment. His eyes as wide as his mouth that is gaping open, Sherlock almost feels the need to close it for him, being afraid for the flies that may fly in there but he can't reach him anyway.  
He crawls a bit more in the direction of John's chair, picking the plaided blanket from it to dry his face, this will make the transformation back quicken.  
"H-How'' He can finally hear coming from the blonde's mouth.  
Sherlock looks down a bit, biting down on his lip before meeting the doctors good eyes.   
'' It all happend for the first time when I was younger, it would return every year in this week'' he can still see the shocked face John is giving him '' I- I know I should maybe, have told you sooner.'' Sherlock says, looking up at John. "Will you leave me now?'' He aks in a very small voice, and if John wasn't focussed on his words he wouldn't have heard it.  
"Oh Sherlock'' He says as he bends down, placing himself on the ground next to Sherlock ''Ofcourse, I will not leave you!'' He takes the detective in a proper embrace and Sherlock returns it by wraping his arms around the firm body of the former army doctor.  
Sherlock doesn't know for how long they sit there, but at some point when he looks down at his bottem, his tail is gone and so is his worry. John saw him, for what he reall was and he didn't leave, he will never leave.  
John faces Sherlock now, and looks down at the detective's lips. Sherlock notices and can't help but also let his eye wander to that of the good doctor.  
Their lips collasp and all of Sherlock's thoughts leave his mind as he places his hands in those soft sandy blonde locks. John returning the favour, by tugging at Sherlock's big curls.  
"Wanna take this to the bedroom" John asks, breaking the kiss for a second, looking Sherlock in the eyes with great passion.  
"Yeah'' Sherlock breaths out as they stand up and make their way over to their bed.


End file.
